1: Pairings from a Hat
by Amerikus
Summary: Random names taken from a hat and made pairings of. Chapter four: Neville and Luna bump into each other in Hogsmeade and Neville asks Luna out - but neither of them knows the other's name until it's too late.
1. SnapeMillicent

Hi! This is the first of seven From a Hat fics. All pairings are from a hat, well, more like bag, because I only have one hat that isn't a visor, and so I used some of my handbags. I hope you like it.  
  
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Pairing no. 1: Snape/Millicent  
  
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Someone bumped her and she dropped her books. "Hey!" Millicent grunted. Just because she was stuck wearing these stupid muggle clothes.  
  
Her bags had been lost on the train, and so all the teachers who had a free period had to search for them. What did those stupid teachers know? Her clothes were all lost. They referred to it as 'temporarily misplaced' but Millicent didn't have time for teachers covering their mistakes, at least, not in jeans and a tank. She gathered her books in her arms (her schoolbag had been inside her trunk when it was lost) and hurried off to potions. She prayed her trunk would turn up soon.  
  
She hurried into the classroom, sitting down at the only free space – up the front. Snape took one look at her outlandish attire and sneered.  
  
"Would you mind explaining to me exactly why you have neglected to remember your robes today?" He said.  
  
"My trunk –"  
  
"It was a metaphorical question. It is of no concern to me, nor is it my problem, that you were careless."  
  
"I was NOT careless!"  
  
"Don't talk back." He spat. "Now if I hear another word out of you it will be detention."  
  
"Bloody Snape trying to bait me..." She muttered.  
  
"Detention, Bulstrode!" He practically shrieked. "Now please, begin your potion!"  
  
Millicent threw ingredients angrily into her cauldron. Three newt tails. Four drops of murtlap essence. Six dandelion stalks. She barely thought about it as she tossed in the magical substances. She wasn't even looking at the instructions. A tail here, a dash of slug there, what was she even making? She added something to the vile mix that wasn't meant to be added. The whole potion blew up in her face, causing Snape's neck to snap around to see what all the commotion was.  
  
"Bulstrode!" He thundered. "Are you purposely trying to make me give you another detention? Thirty points from Slytherin!"  
  
Every living soul in the room gasped. Snape had never, ever, EVER taken points away from his own house before. Millicent glared at him, before tossing her ruined potion in the sink and cleaning up her mess. She brushed the soot off her top and scratched the bottom of her cauldron with her nails. Something had corroded it; she would need a new one before next lesson. Her parents would be annoyed.  
  
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That night, Millicent made her way down to the dungeons for her detention. She was most definitely not looking forward to it. She entered the room and found Snape grinning as he wrote a large, black D on someone's paper.  
  
"Yeah?" She said.  
  
"Sir." He corrected.  
  
"Yeah sir, then."  
  
Snape, obviously annoyed at this intrusion, cast about for something for her to do. "See those cupboards over there?" Millicent nodded. "Tidy them up."  
  
Millicent's jaw dropped. She knew from rumours that that closet hadn't been tidied for at least the last century. She opened the door to the first cupboard and blanched at the stacks of cardboard boxes and old Daily Prophet's that littered the cupboard. With a sigh, she knelt down and started to move some boxes. Which is when she got the sense that someone was very near to her. She turned around and saw her potions professor staring down at her, as if to make sure she was doing it right.  
  
"What on earth are you doing?" She said, grinning. In spite of the situation, she found his facial expression extremely amusing. "Stop it. Do you want me to clean this thing or not?"  
  
"Sir." He replied, correcting her again. She ignored him.  
  
"I'm still trying to tidy this." She said, after he still hadn't moved.  
  
"Don't shake around that box, it has very explosive potions in it."  
  
"I wasn't shaking it!" She said, standing up. Now that she was standing, she found that the gap between them hadn't been as far as she had thought. Actually, they were almost nose to nose. He moved his head forward a fraction and kissed her. She looked up into his eyes, and melted into them. She put an arm around his neck, and he turned toward the door, muttering a locking spell. He turned back towards her and took her inside the cupboard, shutting the door behind them.  
  
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Oh my god. The visual images are just... disturbing. But probably not quite as disturbing as next chapter... you guessed it... Harry/Hedwig. There are some lines that should never be crossed... the interspecies line, for one. 


	2. HarryHedwig

It was Harry Potter's eighteenth birthday, and he was having the time of his life. Not only had his friends bought twelve kegs of firewhiskey, but also Ron had hired magical strippers whose clothes simply disappeared.  
  
"This is a great night, Ron!" Harry shouted over the music, as bats flew about the ceiling.  
  
"If you think this is great, you just picture your buck's night!" Ron shouted back, as he caught the eye of a particularly voluptuous stripper and winked.  
  
Harry cast an eye over the place. Everyone was having the time of their lives – even Hermione. Harry almost jumped out of his skin when he saw her in the corner, making out with some unknown guy.  
  
"My god, look at Hermione!" He said to Ron. Ron looked over at her, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he sprayed out his firewhisky all over Harry, who wiped it off his face.  
  
"She must have had a lot of this stuff!" Ron yelled, indicating the drink in his hand. And sure enough, Hermione sprang off the unknown guy, and ran off to the bathroom, hand over her mouth. "I'd better go see if she's ok."  
  
Harry laughed, wondering about what Ron might try on Hermione, provided she wasn't unconscious. Surely he'd make her rinse out her mouth first. Hopefully. Pushing all dirty thoughts about Hermione and Ron out of his mind, he looked around the room again. Everyone was kissing everyone here. Except for him. Even the guy Hermione had just been snogging had already hooked up with a different girl. He needed to find someone to do, he had to, if there was one night in his life that he had to sleep with someone, he knew this would be it. And it was almost midnight – it wouldn't even be his birthday anymore in fifteen minutes.  
  
He stood up from his chair and immediately fell down again. –Ah, the pleasures of drinking whilst in a seated position – he thought, grinning to himself. – You never know when you're near paralytic. –  
  
Getting up from the floor, he cricked his neck and flexed his almost nonexistent muscles and strutted over to the nearest girl, then, in horror, he realised that it was a girl with the ugliest face he had ever seen. Backing away, he backed into a girl with long red hair and green eyes.  
  
"Hi, uh, babe..." He murmured drunkenly, stooping unintentionally so he looked like a hunchback. "Wha – wha's ya name, gorgeous."  
  
"None of your business," She said, smiling sweetly.  
  
"Ok then None of Your Business... I only have another ten minutes of my birthday left and I –"  
  
"No."  
  
"– I just wondered – "  
  
"No."  
  
"– Oh pleeeeeeease – "  
  
"No."  
  
"– Come ooooooooooon – "  
  
"No."  
  
"Argh! Screw you then."  
  
"Isn't that what I've been refusing?"  
  
"Go away, you... you... sea monster." He said, caught for something to say. He knew it sounded feeble and petty, and the girl laughed at him before exiting the room with another guy, who was much better looking than Harry.  
  
"Not on my bed!" He called out to them, then collapsed in a fit of giggles. Getting up, he drew in a breath and opened his mouth to put the proposition to another girl, but she said no before he could get a word out. So, sullen- faced and upset, he tramped across the house to his bedroom, and flicked on the light. Kicking Hermione and Ron out of there, he flopped down on his bed, looking at the clock. It read 11.55pm.  
  
"Five minutes! All I want is five minutes. But no!" He cried. Closing his eyes, he felt very sorry for himself. He heard a flapping of wings and something pad down on his bed. As he felt a familiar nip on the finger, he opened his eyes and looked over at his owl, Hedwig, staring at him with big, pitying eyes. She chirruped and blinked, seeming to be trying to cheer Harry up.  
  
"Hi Hedwig." He muttered, stroking the bird's snowy head with one hand. Hedwig. She had always been there for him, through thick and thin, carrying his messages for him like no other. He stared into her big, beautiful, brown eyes, then glanced at the clock. 11.59pm...  
  
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Meanwhile, back at the party...  
  
Many heads turned as a loud, shrill squawk emitted from Harry's room. The patrons of the party all turned their heads back and resumed their chatting, except for one Cho Chang, who hurriedly rushed to Harry's room. Opening the door, she saw Hedwig scrambling off the bed and flying out the window, and Harry zipping his pants up with a guilty expression on his face.  
  
"I think I'm going to be sick." She said, and, true to her word, she ruined Harry's priceless Persian rug. "Why on earth?"  
  
"Hey, you know how it is –"  
  
"I would've bloody well done you, but you never asked, did you?"  
  
"Well it's too late now isn't it! It's midnight!"  
  
"I wouldn't do you now if you paid me. I like guys who prefer their own species."  
  
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Five years later...  
  
Harry sighed as he drove home alone again. He remembered the fateful night, five years previous, where he had been so desperate he had... no, he couldn't bear to think of it. When Hedwig hadn't returned that night, he bought himself another owl, a large, tawny this time. He made sure it was the ugliest owl in the entire shop. He never wanted to repeat the scene of five years previous.  
  
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Emily: Me too! Wow, we must be long lost twins or something.  
  
Brandy: Hmm I think I can do that... if you're reading this then I suppose I have.  
  
Mooncheese: Nice name... As you can see, I do not joke about such matters of Harry/Hedwig. It is a very –snif- beautiful pairing... Haha, not.  
  
Megan: Thank you! Dude, if you thought THAT one was creepy, what on earth do you think of THIS one?  
  
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Well, there's chapter two. Stay with us now, for chapter three: Remus/Sprout. Not quite as exciting as good old Harry/Hedwig, but still. 


	3. LupinSprout

Hi! It's been quite a while, no? Anyway, this is the next instalment: _REMUS/SPROUT!_ Anywho, it will be all in letter/note form. Enjoy! Oh, and I don't know Sprout's name, so it will be Leify, cos I like that name, and also it's funny, you know, Leify Sprout.

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Moony,

Charms next. Will be really boring.

Padfoot

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Padfoot,

I am quite aware of that fact.

Moony

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Moo-cow,

But you like Sprout, don't you? The Hufflepuff one. She's in Charms.

Paddles

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Sanitary Pad,

Please shutup. We have to go to Charms. And her name is Leify, by the way.

Mooning you

P.S. Please do not call me Moo-cow. I am not a moo, neither am I a cow. Therefore, it makes no sense at all to refer to me as 'Moo-cow'.

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Mary Moo-Cow,

You like her. I can tell.

Paddy

P.S. I am not a sanitary pad. It might be nice, though, to be one. I think that's what I'll be in my next life. On the one side it will be women's underwear, and on the other side – well, you know.

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Padded cell,

You are revolting. As if you would want to go near a girl's you-know-what when she's you-know-when. Hereby never talking to you again.

Man on the Moon

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To Remus

Hi, in case you hadn't noticed, it's Leify. From Charms. Yes, from Charms. We are in Charms at the moment, therefore making perfect sense of the fact I am passing a note to you. I noticed you looking a bit angry with Sirius. What's he doing this time? But you know, in case you don't want to say or something, that's fine too.

Peace.

Leify

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Hi Leify.

Sirius is being a butt-hole. Ah. He has now noticed you passing a note to me, and me replying. He is now proceeding to wet himself, almost. Write back, I want to see what colour the Professor's face goes when Sirius actually does wet himself.

Remus

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Ah. Sirius the butt-hole, wetting himself. What a mature person you are.

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Of course I'm mature. On the inside, I am over sixty-five. That technically qualifies me for pension, but you try telling those government agents that you're just mature for your age.

Sirius seems to think we're writing lovey-dovey notes. Humour him for me, will you? Will show him a lovey-dovey note, maybe he will wet himself.

Remus

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Mature, and funny. You might be the perfect guy, if YOU weren't a complete butt-hole. Ah – lovey-dovey stuff.

Oh Remus, how I love you so. Hmmm, want to shag tonight?

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Love to. Sirius will be out tonight, let's use his bed.

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To Leify and Remus,

This is Sirius. You ever have penetration on MY BED, and I will personally see to it that your arms and legs are cut off.

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We could always use James' bed.

Remus

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What's wrong with yours?

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Don't know. Keeping the lovey-dovey thing going on.

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But Sirius isn't even reading over your shoulder anymore.

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0.o

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Remus?

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What

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I think I'd like to keep the lovey-dovey thing going on, too.

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I think you were right before. There really is nothing wrong with my bed.

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That was the end of that chapter, best of all, it only took 20 minutes to do! YAY! Stay tuned for next time: Neville/Luna!

Legolas-Obsessionist: I love your name! I wish it was mine, but it isn't. Ron and his broom... I was considering for a second, but then realised that a broomstick would not only be more disgusting than Hedwig, (because of where he would put it) it's not an actual character.

Mooncheese: If I was an owl and Harry did that, I wouldn't return either. Beansprout... haha. Oh well, see above for the reasons why a beansprout is not a good pairing, except exchange the word "broom" for "beansprout".


	4. NevilleLuna

This time... NEVILLE/LUNA!

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Neville Longbottom walked down a street of Hogsmeade. At the ripe old age of 22, he had done quite well for himself. When he left Hogwarts, he hadn't qualified for anything that he'd really liked to do, e.g. Herbologist, but Fred and George had had the kindness to hire him at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes until he got the grades. He was mainly the guinea pig, but he was a salesman in the times when the Dastardly Duo didn't have a new experiment to test on him.

Lost in his thoughts, Neville blundered into someone carrying a bag of small cages. The bag fell to the ground and the cages spilled out, all over the cobblestones.

"So sorry... wasn't watching where I was going... let me help." He said, picking up some of the cages. "What are these for?"

The girl who dropped the bag looked up at him, dirty blonde hair swaying in the slight breeze. "I think I've got Perescimites in the fireplace. My father says to lure them out with Flobberworms then put them in cages." Neville was taken aback. Most girls who looked like her wouldn't give him the time of day, let alone speak to him in that friendly manner, as if he was her oldest friend. He barely even noticed the fact that Perescimites were a make-believe race of small furry mammals with long fangs and claws, designed to keep children away from fireplaces where they could easily floo away to destinations unknown.

"Um, do you... ah..." Neville stammered. The girl had a look on her face as if she'd never seen such an interesting creature as him before.

"Do I what?" She said.

"Do you... er... would you care for a drink in the Three Broomsticks later on?" Neville blurted out. Oh no, now look what I did, he thought, I'm wide open to rejection, here it comes...

"Sure."

"Yes, well, just thought I'd ask, doesn't – what?"

"I said ok. That would be good."

"Serious?"

"Yep."

"Not kidding me?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" Neville asked, wondering if the girl was suffering some kind of sight-altering disease.

"I said yes, didn't I?"

"Well... I suppose. Seven, then?"

"Seven what's?"

"Seven o'clock."

"What about it?"

"Well, I just thought that would be a good time to meet –"

"Why didn't you say so? Seven o'clock it is, then."

The girl picked up the last cage and put it in her bag, then wandered off, the same way she had come from. Then, remembering her direction, changed route to go past Neville, staring into space.

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Neville looked at his watch. Five past seven. I knew it, he thought. She's not coming. Fool, Neville, fool...

He was just about to open the door to leave when the door opened from the outside, and a girl with long, dirty-blonde hair walked in, staring at the door.

"Um... hi?" He said.

"Hello." The girl said. "So... I think the bar is that way."

"Right." Neville said, trying to maintain a cool and composed walk. It was difficult, though, and somehow he tripped over his own feet and landed flat on his face. Real cool, he thought. Very, very cool. The girl simply helped him up and asked the bartender for a butterbeer. Neville asked for a firewhisky to calm him down. He secretly thought it was a good thing the girl was drinking butterbeer, she didn't need to get any dottier. Downing the firewhisky in one gulp, it was a couple of seconds before he realised why they called it firewhisky. His throat felt like it was on fire, like thousands of tiny needles were stabbing his insides as he felt the vile drink slip down through his system into his stomach.

"Butterbeer, thanks." He rasped to the bartender, clutching at his chest. The bartender giggled.

"First firewhisky?" She asked. He nodded. "I see that all the time. Don't worry, you'll get used to it soon enough."

Just as Neville was thinking that he would rather swim in Kappa-infested waters than get used to this vile concoction, the girl started to engage him in conversation.

"I've never drunk firewhisky." She said. "I heard it contains the ash from dragon's breath."

"Who'd you hear that from?" Neville asked, saying the first thing that came into his head.

"My father." Said the girl.

Suddenly, before Neville could get his bearings, the girl was kissing him. He was so surprised that he almost wet himself, but then remembered where he was, and how awkward that situation would be. He was in a daze, barely noticing as he threw floo powder into the bar's fireplace and shouted his address. Collapsing onto his bed, the girl stared into space for a second, before resuming her previous activities. Dozy... was Neville's last coherent thought.

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Neville awoke to find the girl snoring next to him.

"Just what I've always wanted." He said sarcastically. "A snorer." Belatedly, he realised that he had never even got this girl's name. "What's your name?" He asked, shaking her awake.

"Luna... Luna Lovegood."

"No!" He shouted, unbelieving. "You're not!"

"Yes I am." She said calmly. "Who were you, by the way?"

"My name is Neville Longbottom and I really shouldn't be here."

"That boy from Hogwarts?"

"Yes! Now, I must leave!"

"Oh. Ok." She said, and started snoring again. From then on, Neville made sure he knew who a girl was before he asked her out.

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Stay tuned for the next instalment: SIRIUS/BLAISE!


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